


My Xenological Romance

by NothingSoDivine



Series: NSD Writes Homestuck [9]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anachronistic, Eventual Smut, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-29 20:03:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3908836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NothingSoDivine/pseuds/NothingSoDivine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat can sing.<br/>A little anecdote of Karkat and Dave forming a friendship pre-retcon timeline (because I hadn't reached the retcon yet when I started and it doesn't really fit with the retcon??? idk, man, idk).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. S. I. N. G.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [In which Dave catches Karkat singing in the shower (ON HIATUS)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2583830) by [fukmylyf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fukmylyf/pseuds/fukmylyf). 



> I haven't actually finished reading it, but I liked the idea, so I stole it. *shrugs* sue me.

Holy fucking shit.

If you were a religious guy, you'd be pretty fucking sure you'd died and gone to heaven. Either that, or an angel had graced your meteor with its presence. But you're not religious, so the only explanation for the sounds you're hearing at the moment has to be either human or troll. Rose and Kanaya are in the library - you just came from there - and Terezi's either with psycho-clown-boy or the Mayor in Can Town. Therefore, the only possible explanation for this heavenly sound emanating from the bathroom is one Karkat Vantas.

And holy shit, can that boy sing.

He's got this _voice_ that you can't put words to, it's... it's not anything like you expected from someone who spends all his time yelling. It's pretty fucking versatile, from the sounds of it, and it's sending shivers down your spine that are ending up somewhere else entirely.

It sounds like he's singing something you recognise - well, you don't recognise it, per se, but the lyrics are in English, so you figure it's from Earth. He's singing along with something he's playing, some rock 'n' roll or something like that, and it's not your type of music, but it's... not that bad, actually.

Okay, it's pretty good. Of course, the fact that Karkat's singing along helps. Fuck, he's got pipes. Then the song switches, and _holy shit you cannot believe this guy_.

He's a fucking soprano.

What the fuck.

You take a minute to reconcile your higher brain functions with the fact that he was just singing some headbanger shit, and now he's singing like an operatically-fucking-trained soprano. _What the fuck_.

Okay, you have to record this kid.

You can't even remember what you were here for originally. Whatever it was has been long since wiped from your memory. Your entire consciousness is now fixated on the need to get Karkat into your makeshift recording studio and get him singing. You're fumbling with your iShades, trying to get the video function working, when suddenly he stops.

You almost call out, _Dude, why'd you stop singing?_ but then you realise exactly how creepy that would sound, so you just stroll nonchalantly in like you were originally planning to do. There's this vaguely grub-shaped thing sitting on the counter by the sinks, and it appears to be blasting the music out of surprisingly powerful speakers. You can hear Karkat bustling around in one of the shower stalls, humming quietly to himself.

Oh yeah, you were planning on showering. That's what you were going to do. You knew there was something you were planning on doing. You strip off your shirt, grab a towel on your way past the stack, and head for the last shower in the row, the one with the red plastic curtain that you've claimed as your own personal space.

"Hey, Karkat, nice singing, by the way," you call out on the way past his shower stall.

The rustling behind the curtain stops, and Karkat pokes his head around the plastic curtain. "What?" His gold-and-silver eyes are wide. (He's so fucking cute, what the fuck, why is he so cute if he's such an asshole.)

"Heard you singing," you explain. "It was good. Could I maybe record you sometime?"

"You weren't supposed to hear that," Karkat says. He's blushing. (What the fuck. Too cute.)

"Why not?" you ask, pulling off your shades and toeing off your shoes as you stand in the corridor between the shower stalls. "You weren't exactly keeping quiet. Besides, it was good."

His face is going the most magnificent shade of red. "Shut up."

"Man, come on, I'm not going to judge you," you defend, tugging off your socks so you're standing there in just your jeans. The next song is coming on, and usually you'd be kind of a tiny bit embarrassed to admit that you know it, but this is Karkat, and he don't give a fuck, so you dictate the words right at him as they play. "Sing it out. Boy, you've got to see what tomorrow brings."

He rolls his eyes, but you continue.

"Sing it out! Girl, you've got to be what tomorrow needs."

"You're an idiot, Strider," Karkat sighs, shoving the yellow plastic curtain aside to reveal himself standing there in nothing but his boxers. You surreptitiously admire the view.

" _For every time that they want to count you out_ ," you continue, starting to sing. " _You'll lose your voice every single time you open up your mouth._ "

Karkat just stands there, leaning against the wall with an unimpressed are-you-fucking-kidding-me-Strider look on his face, as you sing the chorus with more feeling than you've ever put into speaking. You've never sung this song - any song - above a tiny murmur, and you're pretty pleased to find out that you're actually not that bad. By the time you finish the chorus, Karkat's look has morphed to if-you-can't-beat-'em-join-'em.

"So you really don't mind my singing?" he asks over the second verse.

"Dude, are you kidding me?" you ask back, incredulous. "Who do I have to fuck to get you into a recording studio?"

Annnnnnnnd the blush is back. (Goddammit, he's so _cute_ but he's so _hot_ and it's not _fair_.) "No fucking required. Just say the word."

You flash him a rare grin and start back in singing: " _You've got to make a choice if the music drowns you out_."

Karkat returns the grin, and as the music continues, he joins in. " _And raise your voice every single time they try to shut your mouth!_ "

Fuck, he's got a great voice. The two of you sing the chorus in tandem, and it's fucking magnificent. Karkat sings the way he does everything: with unbridled passion that he desperately tries not to show to anyone else. By the time you reach the bridge, you're singing right in each other's faces.

You pause with the music. You're about two inches from kissing.

You lock eyes with Karkat. He looks so apprehensive. You jerk back, shout the next line, " _Keep running!_ " and then you're back in rhythm, singing like neither of you give a flying fuck about whatever other shit is going down on this meteor, because at the moment, neither of you _does_ give a flying fuck.

The song ends, and you spend a moment in tense silence before the next song comes on - something with piano and violins and suddenly holyfuckheavymetal. You don't really pay attention to it. You're holding Karkat's gaze, almost as if the two of you are both expecting and dreading whatever's going to happen next.

You're the one who breaks eye contact. Turning, you head into your shower stall. Behind you, you hear Karkat resume his rustling around, and as you turn the water on and crank it to hot, the music quietens. You hear it fade out of hearing range as the door shuts.

You step into the shower, still humming.

_Sing it for the boys_  
_Sing it for the girls_  
_Every time that you lose it sing it for the world_  
_Sing it from the heart_  
_Sing it till you're nuts_  
_Sing it out for the ones that'll hate your guts_  
_Sing it for the deaf_  
_Sing it for the blind_  
_Sing about everyone that you left behind_  
_Sing it for the world_  
_Sing it for the world_


	2. Yes

"Are you sure about this?" Karkat asks you for probably the three hundredth time.

"You'll be great, don't worry," you soothe, continuing to dick around on your laptop to get all the settings sorted out for recording. You managed to alchemize a fucking soundboard - it took forever, but you somehow managed - and all the other shit you're about to need, but all you can do is hope that nobody makes any noise that the mic will pick up, because your room isn't soundproofed. "You know the song, what is there to worry about? Just sing it."

"But... what if it's no good?" Karkat presses, staring down at the microphone in his hand as though it's a bouquet of overly-symbolic white lilies he's brought to his best friend's funeral.

"You mean, if you mess up? We record it again. Easy." You plug in one last cord, flip the power switch, and you're good to go.

"No, I mean, what if I just don't sound good?" Karkat clarifies.

You stop what you're doing to turn and give him a look. He looks so earnest.

"You are kidding, right?" you ask.

He looks at you like you just shit on one of his romance novels. "No," he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the universe.

You blink behind your mirrored lenses, but don't reply. Instead, you pick up your spare headphones, which are plugged into your laptop.

"Here." You nestle them over Karkat's slightly-pointy ears, nudge the microphone up to his mouth, slide on your own set of headphones, and reach for your keyboard, fingers hovering over the spacebar. "Ready?"

He shakes his head, but you start it anyways.

As the intro starts playing, he lowers the mic and looks up at you with his eyes full of panic. (God, his eyes are expressive. Yours are the same, which is partly why you keep them hidden.)

"I can't do this, Strider," he says. "I can't do this."

You hold out a hand to him, as though you're about to set it on his shoulder or pap his face or something. "Shhhh," you tell him. It's not quite a shoosh, but it's close enough to do the job without infringing on psycho-clown territory. "Nobody's going to hear this except us, remember? It's just for fun."

Warily, he raises the microphone back to his lips. You reach over to the sound board, nudge the volume up on the input from the mic, and he starts to sing.

God _damn_ you love this song. You're not even entirely sure how you found it - probably one of those eternal YouTube mixes you'd put on as background noise or something, you really have no idea - because it's not your type of music, but you can't seem to stop listening to it. And even though the original is pretty fucking good, you can already tell that Karkat is going to do it justice. Taking his cues from the original recording, he lets his satiny-smooth voice go a little bit rough around the edges, and at the end of the first verse, he lets his voice drop off the note with a little growl that sends all kinds of shivers down your spine. You are _so_ keeping this one.

The way his voice goes breathy, like he's so turned on he can't breathe, on the last line before the chorus is so perfect that you have to bite your lip and clench your hands into fists to keep from doing anything stupid like tackling him and kissing him (which would absolutely ruin your friendship, not to mention what it would do to your recording equipment). You fiddle with the dials, tweak the way his voice is coming through your headphones until it sounds just like him, like he's breathing right in your ear with that growling trollish undertone blossoming through his words. Fuck, you wish he was.

You glance over at Karkat. His eyes are shut as he croons into the mic like he's _trying_ to seduce you even though you know he isn't. He's getting more into the music, moving a bit to the beat as he sings. His mouth is forming the words loosely, languidly, but without lagging behind the music, and when he finishes he slips the very tip of his tongue between his teeth and and smiles lazily around it. A little nagging voice in the back of your head reminds you of what you have to do with the sound board, so you return to futzing with the dials and sliders and you turn off the mic just in time for Karkat's eyes to flutter open as the music dies down.

He doesn't speak until you stop recording and pull off your headphones. Then he pulls off his own with a shy smile and an anime-girl blush.

"How was it?" he asks.

You hold out your hand for a fistbump. "Bro, that was fucking awesome."

He grins and bumps knuckles with you, handing back the microphone. You turn for half a second to put it away, and when you turn back, Karkat's flumped across your bed.

"I want to hear it," he says, and you shake your head.

"It's not finished, Karks," you say. "You don't want to listen to an unfinished piece of music, do you?"

"Yes, I do," Karkat replies instantly, and you sigh.

"Fine," you relent, swinging your laptop around and saving the file quickly before jumping back to the beginning of the track, "but it won't be perfect."

"That's okay," he murmurs. "I want to hear it anyways."

You unplug the two sets of headphones, rearrange some cords, plug in your speakers and press play. Almost instantly, the sound blooms throughout the room, just loud enough to fill it without being deafening.

You glance over at Karkat. He's got his eyes closed, brows furrowed ever-so-slightly as he rolls his shoulders to the beat. You reach over and pull in the bass, turning it up carefully until it thrums through your bones.

The song flies by, far faster than you realise, and as the music dies back down, Karkat opens his eyes and grins.

"It's good," he decides, sitting up. "It's pretty good."

"All right, now out you go," you reply, making a shooing motion with your hands. "I have editing to do."

He grumbles under his breath, but lets you shoo him out, and you shut the door behind him before returning to your computer. You've got one thing to do before you do any editing.

You turn on the music, lie down on your bed with your face in the part of the blanket that smells like Karkat, and jerk off to the sound of his voice.

 _If you'd only, if you'd only say yes_  
_Whether you will's anybody's guess_  
_God, only God knows I'm trying my best,_  
_But I'm just so tired of this loneliness._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there's a playlist now! :D It includes the songs that don't have lyrics mentioned, too, in case you're curious about what those songs were. It can be found [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLW1HwScrGc1ajEPnzHfZ-vU65OjNXyzdT) \- it's not finished yet, because neither is the fic, but it's going to be updated regularly to reflect the songs I use.


End file.
